


The Space Orcs are coming, hooray, hooray!

by Charles_Rockafellor



Series: Tell me more about this Earth-thing [1]
Category: humans are space orcs - Fandom
Genre: Alien Biology, Alien anatomy, Alternate Physics, Fade to Black, Fluff, Food Porn, Humans are space orcs, Kardashёv Scale, No Tentacles, Nudity, Other, Plasma Cosmology, Possible Squick, Romance, Slice of Life, Space Opera, Survival, Type II technology, Type III civilization, implied sex, not smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:27:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27063373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charles_Rockafellor/pseuds/Charles_Rockafellor
Summary: Billie Badass is from one of the galaxy's most dangerous and hearty species – a Genomorph (a hermaphroditic species halfway between Futurama's Gelatinous Blobs and Red Dwarf's Pleasure GELFs; not precisely an ST:DS9 Changeling, but similar enough) – though not suicidally stupid enough to go near Humans... until one fateful trip.  Now cast away, ze learns from a local – Avery, a Deathworlder – adapts, overcomes, and survives.= = = = =The story is set within Icewall's Galactic Disc world-pond, but specifically some internal galaxy that isn't the main space opera mash-up setting of Star Trek, WH40K, Dune, etc..  Obviously it has yet another Earth-clone to wonder about.  Funny how many of those there are, hmm?I was sort of aiming for a Niven-like telling (and maybe a little “Bill the Galactic Hero” flavor), but I think that it shaped up in a more Poul Anderson fashion (and possibly a hint of Laumer's Retief at the end).  You tell me.
Series: Tell me more about this Earth-thing [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1975186
Kudos: 23
Collections: Food Porn of Icewall, Humans Are Space Orcs, Humor and Comedy, Sci-fi





	1. Welcoming party

**Author's Note:**

> If you wish to subscribe to Space Orcs (Billie and Avery), then you should click the **_series_** “[Tell me more about this Earth-thing](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1975186)” (top of page) and subscribe _there_ to the series altogether, rather than this story in particular.
> 
> = = = = =
> 
> NB: The Genomorph, Billie, is [fully] hermaphroditic -- though to be clear, in case you skipped the tags: _implied_ sex, **Fade to Black** , _not_ smut (nothing against smut: I have a hardcore crack-smut of [Hermione/Harry](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25242988/chapters/61191625) even, it's just that smut isn't where this story is going). For this reason, I've chosen the pronoun set {ze / ze'd / ze's / ze'll / zer / zers / zerself}. Were Genomorphs, or at least Billie, non-sexed beings then I would have gone with they/etc. (or possibly it/etc., though that could prove touchy), which is sometimes used for other non-binary cases. I've done non-binary genotype at least once before (cf.: Friday, in “[Sonic's Redemption](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24230851/chapters/58380841)”), wherein I carefully referred to the individual by name, but that presented some difficult challenges in structuring the written material in such a way as to avoid feeling too repetitious, and didn't feel quite right for this instance. There, I sought to avoid biasing the reader; here, Billie's genetic and phenotypal particulars have as much or as little relevance as anyone's might in any given story, leading me to choose a specific pronoun use.
> 
> And for the search engine: “Kardashev”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> N.B.: If you enjoy this story, but don't really find the premise of the second one terribly enthralling (“Heart of the GNACHO”, which takes a slightly retrospective approach to the background civilization), you might wish to go straight to the third one (“When in Rome”), which is a bit more pulp sci-fi oriented with mysterious mega-structures and crazy Cat-girls.
> 
> ▐► **As for notes on how to change fonts and font colors and so forth, please see** [Fonts, and colors, and work skins, oh my!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28934610)
> 
> * * *

**_Deathworld _ **

The ship crashed on private property, deep within Arkansas. It wasn't picked up by the airport or the airbase due to its “invisibility wax” – a membrane of entangled pre-squarks **1** , but that wouldn't take care of everything.

“ _Fuck!_ ” the Deathworlder said, some long and primitive metal weapon lowered by its side.

That one word said it all.

The crash, the mess, first contact; the terror.

Its scent drove itself into zer awareness. It emitted a cloud of chemicals, each alone establishing it as dominant and calmly sure of its preeminence.

Billie's body was still bipedal from zer most recent cultural immersion, with reflective symmetry and centralized processing, and so of broadly similar form to that of the Deathworlder, hence likely to trigger proportionately less fight or flight response. Non-programmed data acquisition had left Genomorphs one of the galaxy's naturally dominant species, but the galaxy wasn't full of mental stimulation to the point of any given deathworld. That was the point, too **:** it was civilized, at least mostly. Billie was a xenoethnologist, but they weren't going to risk a naval wing just to come in and try to save zer.

First problem **:** strongly oxidizing atmosphere, somewhat alkaline water planet, hints of ozone even this deep down in their sludge of gasses, radiation coming in from both directions... Ze should be able to adjust to it – _nominally_ – soon enough; zer system had been exposed to such environments before, so it was only a matter of time. If the Deathworlder let zer live that long. There were hair-raising tales about these things, though nobody knew enough about them to be sure of anything; that was why ze was here, after all.

It reached out at zer.

This was it. Ze was dead already, no time to so much as scratch the surface... well, no, ze'd certainly managed _that_ much, at least.

Then it was on zer.

Ze was lifted bodily and hurled... gently into its arms as if ze weighed nothing at all.

In only a few strides, it had carried zer to the edge of the pond and set zer down.

_Ahh, more of a chasing instinct, of course. Something to work up its appetite and my adrenaline._

“Are you alright, ma'am?” it asked, its hulking body leaning down and peering at zer as it pawed away, removing bits of brush.

Ze blinked. It hadn't registered on zer before, but it could talk. In fact, it spoke Audible Galactic Common reasonably well – or _un_ -reasonably well, all things considered.

“I'm Avery,” it said, removing its protective head gear for a moment, revealing some longer fur that matched the fur around the fringes of its face, “AY-vuh-Ree,” then stabbing itself in the chest a few times.

“I was feeding the ducks whenever your... _passenger drone_ or whatever smacked into the pond. Can I call someone for you?”

_Ducks? Drones? What is it babbling about?_

“I'll tell you what. Let's you and me go back to my place – no funny business, I swear – and we'll get you all cleaned up and looked at. Then we can worry about what next.”

Though nervous at this, ze didn't put up one whit of resistance **:** small yellow things were closing around them menacingly, quacking and snapping their bills as if to devour them whole. Normally a ridiculous notion, given their size, but this was a deathworld after all...

Suddenly, the stiff brown plants to the left parted and a shaggy beast came rushing out, jaws wide and fangs flashing.

“Yeller! Heel! Down, boy!”

Amazingly, the fang-beast ceased its charge and settled down, slabs of muscle rippling as it leaped all around them, for all the world as if frolicking with mates.

“You're lucky there weren't no water moccasins in there, though I guess the splash probably startled them all away,” the Deathworlder went on as they continued to walk, Billie never taking zer eyes off of the fang-beast trotting along nearby.

Glancing suddenly to zer right, ze saw a small furry thing scuttle down a tree to chitter at them, staring at them with beady eyes, tiny teeth bared for all to see the threat in its noises. Ze drew closer to the Deathworlder.

Moments later, a small motion caught zer eye along the path ahead of them. Something tawny, not much larger than the Deathworlder's fang-beast. It watched them, its head full of pointed branches of bare bone menacing them even at this remove. The Deathworlder stood still, raising its weapon toward its shoulder, then lowering it again as the bone-monster darted off and fled. The fang-beast came trotting back from somewhere; ze'd lost track of it in that brief span, but apparently it had been operating in tandem with the Deathworlder. This bestial thing – _Yeller_ – saw it as a superior, performing flanking movements in unspoken communication!

“Dang it.”

It wasn't long before the Deathworlder pointed to the side, saying “Watch for that there poison ivy,” as it detoured slightly toward the other side of the path. Ze saw nothing but some underbrush and a vine climbing a tree, but took its warning to heart in any case.

“Mostly isn't much around here, most of the time, but you're not near much else here anyway. Mostly you just gotta keep your eyes out for hawks... and feral dogs... and snakes... and briar patches... and skunks... and maybe cougars... not a lot of home invaders in these parts. Wait, gotta get some of this here thistle **2** ;” it calmly wrapped a hand around the prickly plant, showing not the slightest concern nor sign of debilitating pain from what must surely be devastating wounds, “good eatin'. Now, I know you don't go picking mushrooms without double-checking – that whole kingdom is _iffy_ ,” it smiled as it plucked some red-topped fungi covered in little white dots, “but you just have to learn how to pick your poisons,” it finished with a wink.

“You eat toxic fungi _intentionally_?!?” ze asked, the question blurting itself out before ze could think.

“So, you _do_ talk!” it teased, “But as for magic mushrooms... well, only sometimes, and just for some fun on the weekend; besides, half the plants we eat are toxic anyway, you just gotta find the right balance is all.”

Shock ran through zer to a cellular colony level.

_It's true. It's all true. Everything that they'd ever said of these Deathworlders, and more!_

“Cookie?”

It was holding out just that: a small pastry-thing, seemingly.

Ze thought to ask what was in it, then realized that the local food words would be meaningless. Ze took a cautious nibble. It didn't bite zer, which ze half-expected even of inanimate foods here, but ze waited to observe further reactions to its chemistry over time, rather than gobble it down blindly. Ze didn't have the food-o-mat at hand, but ze also didn't have the autodoc up and running either, and this was a deathworld, after all.

It was then that ze noticed the Deathworlder still watching zer, its eyes absently traveling zer body as if sizing zer up for a roasting spit.

“Sorry, wasn't thinking!” it said hastily, its face growing red.

 _Chromatophoric communication_ , ze was sure of it, _some sort of danger or challenge signal. Perhaps I should make myself look big? No, utterly preposterous unless I hope to distract it with laughter until it dies of exhaustion or hunger. Do they even laugh? Small and weak might not work well either though, and it already outpaces me easily, and its lung capacity does seem to argue no little stamina were we to compete so. So **:** neither fight nor flight, and I certainly have no interest in being food._

Having eliminated three of the five “F”s, ze stared at zer only remaining options **:** _friend or fuck_.

 _'_ Fuck _' is obviously not on the menu – there's simply no chance that I'd be of any reproductive interest to it whatsoever. That leaves only '_ friend _,' if Deathworlders even hold that concept. Maybe I could feed it, and hope to register as non-enemy, at least._

Absentmindedly, ze finished zer cookie and accepted another as ze continued to weigh zer hazily forming plan. Something in the cookie found zer steps pick up again rapidly. Zer entire system soon felt energized as they zipped along again. What had the Deathworlder put into this “snack?” Were they all drug-fueled addicts? Was _ze too_ , now?

“Umm... so, you got a name?” it asked.

“Billie” ze replied.

“Nice name, Billie. Pleased to meet'cha.”

Ze wasn't sure where it was heading with this, and so settled for a neutral shrug.

It seemed to accept zer attempt as being friendly enough, smiling. Its teeth argued hostile intention, but it made no move to devour zer, so ze simply opted to glance downward rather than risk challenging it with sustained eye contact.

“The flytraps don't get bigger than a small frog or so, around here,” it said after a dozen paces more.

Zer eyes darted hastily around as ze hunched inward a little, hoping not to walk into any flying traps inadvertently. Why would these Deathworlders litter the region with traps intentionally? Unless the traps were only a game to play on zer mind, or a basic training mechanism for their young – the ones that survived said traps, at any rate...

It slowed its pace.

“Not up in the air – look,” it continued, crouching by some low-lying foliage, “these little guys down here.”

Ze stared in fascination. A patch of greenery showed open mouths, a garish puce in most cases, their finger-like tendrils splayed outward. Some few were closed, giving no hint as to why.

Then ze learned their nature.

A large insect landed along the edge of a mouth, crawling around at random. Searching for something, it stepped on one of the tendrils, then away. Stepping on another a moment later, the mouth snapped shut around it in an instant, quivering against the insect's futile struggles.

_Even their sessile plant life is focused on hunting and killing._

“Do you have many of these?” ze asked, fearing the likely answer.

“Well, these and sundews, and some butterwort – they use a sticky glue to catch dinner, and mostly live down by the pond. I haven't seen any pitcher plants around – they wait for things to fall in and drown in digestive juices and stuff – but I wouldn't be surprised. Same with lobster pots **:** the _genlisea_ just lets 'em crawl in, and they can't get out, so they crawl farther along, and then they're in its stomach. Won't see them around here neither, though I'd like to. There are definitely some bladderworts around though, but they live in the water and just suck things right into their sacs.”

Ze listened to this litany of blood lust, almost glazing over as ze imagined these plants coming for zer, or accidentally walking into one of the larger ones unawares.

Ze watched all of the plants around closely, avoiding everything large enough to constitute a potential threat, hoping that none might lunge for zer – or strike at a distance with lashing whips or toxic darts, or tangle zer feet and drag zer to zer doom, or puff mind-numbing agents into zer face, or shower zer with a digestive rain – the need for safe shelter weighing down on zer increasingly as they forged onward.

“How much farther?” ze asked, feeling as if ze were about to collapse between physical exhaustion and nervous tension.

“ _Are we there yet?_ ” it laughed in a sing-song voice, “Oh, no time at all. We're about halfway home, now!”

Ze faltered. Halfway? They'd already trekked farther than most of the more persistent species might undertake for a day's walk!

The weather was unpredictable – hot, cold, wet, dry, blustery – but held off in its fury until they'd made their way to his home, doing no more than drizzling on them lightly and sporadically until then, and making the way somewhat slippery and unsure of foot, everything just wet enough to be made a nuisance. Avery shrugged it off, saying that at least there were no _funnel clouds_ or hail, and the bulk of nearby pollution was downwind, so no worry of acid rain, probably just some lightning. These thoughts churned in zer mind and gut as they approached its cabin, its last comment coming with just such a stroke as it opened the door and motioned for zer to enter, which ze did with great relief. Zer eyes already wide, it showed zer one its prizes **:** a gnarled and twisted, branching mass that it called “fulgurite,” going on to explain the formation as being sand that had been blasted with gigawatts of electricity, and mentioning a few of its other pieces of meteorites and basalt as it fussed around in the kitchen.

Then there was lunch.

Sitting with the Deathworlder, ze looked over what it offered for food. Irradiated “timber rattlesnake” tenders (“ _They're cut plenty far back from the venom sacs, don't you worry._ ” – _It devours venomous things that seek to devour it?_ ) and stir fried “ 'gator” tail steak strips (“ _Gotta cook 'em well done, sorry about that – they're crawling with parasites, otherwise._ ” – _As if to say that it might normally prefer its meat raw and bloody..._ ) swimming in “butter” and “garlic” with a dash of “hot sauce,” and a beverage of diabetically sweetened carbonic acid with cyanide fruit flavoring that it called “cherry cola”; dessert was “mint ice cream.”

Ze managed to consume all that was given to zer, including second helpings, even though zer tongue had screamed from the capsaicin and mesquite, burning as if having been filled with molten lead (ze'd watched the Deathworlder intentionally burn wood simply to flavor the food and caramelize the proteins, thus intentionally introducing mutagenic heterocyclic amines and polycyclic aromatic hydrocarbons, along with acrylamide and a host of other byproducts!). Dessert came first as a welcome relief, zer tongue now soothed for a moment, before it continued its plunge into a frozen escape orbit.

“Wait'll you sit on krazy glue some time,” Avery laughed gently as it watched zer mild panic, “you can actually _feel orange_ as a sensation!”

_So, not simply color vision – though apparently lacking polarization to any great degree, and limited to only three opsins – but synesthetes even? How much more do these Deathworlders carry in their arsenal that we are as yet unaware of?_

The storm dropped in its intensity, the rain now taking a cold edge, threatening to become daggers of ice as they sat on the porch and basked in the warmth of full bellies with sandwiches to soak up the ample juices leftover from their late afternoon meal.

Avery stepped inside for a moment, coming back out with huge, steaming mugs of hot chocolate, grating fresh cinnamon onto each as they sat to watch the weather as entertainment. Zer system began to buzz as the drink's toxins worked their way through zer.

“We'll go back tomorrow after the mosquitoes settle down, then haul your ship – umm, I mean your _passenger drone_ – out with the truck,” it said as ze watched everything jitter, zer hearing coming and going to an extent, and zer nerves jangling, “before any sinkholes swallow it up.”

 _Even the Deathworlders' home vehicles are monsters_ , ze thought muzzily.

“Mosquitoes?”

It smiled, nodding its head as if realizing that it should have explained its cryptic remark.

“Little things you can barely see, but they suck your blood and it's a real pain in the ass.”

Ze drew zer chair's blankets more tightly around zer hips and thighs as it went about the porch lighting candles, explaining that they were “citronella” to ward off the blood suckers.

That was when ze noticed the strange markings on the Deathworlder, patterns of ink in its very skin, and objects that appeared to puncture its ear. Shuddering, ze decided not to inquire.

Dinner was another array of different meats, along with fruit, vegetables, mushrooms, and tubers set over fire. The smoke was intense, zer eyes watering, the air almost too thick for zer body's configuration to handle the gas exchanges, but ze pressed on, stalwart in zer commitment.

“I know, I know. Typical man. But out here, it's not just us guys who have a carnivorous streak, y'know, and who doesn't love a barbecue?” it joked. The humor was clear in its – _his_ , ze thought to zerself – voice, but humor that still seemed to share space with _his_ subtext. An intimation that “it” was male.

_Well. At least that establishes that, without risking any forbidden conversational territory._

The lumps of meat weren't simple insects or similar such either, as might be expected of those few carnivorous species that had risen to sophont **3** – or at least sentient – levels. Unlike the bite-sized pieces that they'd had for lunch, these were whole portions of larger creatures, entire body parts and organs. Perplexingly, the plant and fungal matter present for their encore appearance certainly credited an omnivorous capability, which was the rarest of all survival strategies for galactic sophonts. Autotrophs could afford to invest the time and energy necessary to develop sapience, in order to deal with failing resources more adaptively than by random circumstance; herbivores (or psychologically **:** _grazing_ lifeforms that consumed sessile creatures, these _typically_ being plant, fungus, mold, etc.) sometimes had to develop sophonce in order to avoid predation, or more often sapience in order to ensure sufficient plant or fungal production; obligate carnivores (or more properly **:** _hunting_ lifeforms that preyed upon mobile creatures, not necessarily restricting prey to meat proteins as such) _had_ to develop sapience and some degree of sophonce for group coordination; omnivores... they simply took whatever was handy, often even settling for carrion if nothing more convenient presented itself, and so only some limited degree of sentience at all was typically ever needed. These Deathworlders had apparently decided that everything was food, especially things that weren't, and developed strategies to cover every scenario and approach.

The fang-beast, Yeller, followed him everywhere, as if expecting a share in the food. It – _he_ – wasn't disappointed, receiving an equal portion when dinner was finally served.

“Hey there, Paws!” the Deathworlder called suddenly, his eyes shifting to something behind zer.

Ze turned zer head to see some new furry thing slink along the porch railing, smaller than Yeller, the confident swagger of an alpha predator evident in its every move.

_How many of these guardian-species does he command? Does he intend to invade a neighbor's lands, or do they all keep such an army at hand as vassals?_

Stretching and yawning, the beast on the railing exposed murderous claws, actually shredding the hardened wood with ease, before leveling its stare on zer. Ze could feel it assessing zer every weakness, weighing and measuring zer and finding zer wanting before dismissing zer as irrelevant.

Closing on the Deathworlder, it butted its head against his arm.

The Deathworlder casually rubbed his hand over the claw-beast a few times, slapping its hind quarters gently, and handed it a few tidbits as if feeding a small child. He even made small crooning noises and nonsense words at the claw-beast while doing so.

Leaping down, the claw-beast approached zer.

Ze stayed still, far from calm, but leery of injudicious movement.

Sniffing to see if ze were worth eating, it decided against this, and hopped into zer lap only to curl up in a proprietary fashion and use zer as a cushion, a continuous growl warning zer not to move.

The Deathworlder smiled and nodded as he returned his attention to the food, now nearly done being burned. “Well, you got her approval, and that's enough for me. You're officially good people.”

 _So then **:** the claw-beast – _Paws _– is his assessor, or perhaps empathic analyst?_ Some _sort of intelligence agent, at any rate. How did it –_ she _– communicate_ her _findings to him, or even reach them so swiftly?_

The conversation eventually turned to the skins and guns on his walls... and zer disbelief that the country was currently at _peace_.

“Well,” he amended, “sure, there's a little nuke-worry, but...”

“Nuke?”

“Yeah, y'know, nuclear bombs. Heavy metals that explode when you put too much of 'em in one spot. But we haven't dropped any for decades–”

“ _Decades?_ ”

“I mean, there were a couple in the war, but–”

“A _couple?!?_ ”

“Well, them and a few thousand tests.”

“ _Thousands_ – on your _own world?!?_ ”

Ze realized zer mistake too late, and could only hope that this might go unnoticed.

“Tell ya what. We got no wars right now, no more'n usual I mean, not like that. Relax and watch the fireflies.”

 _Flying things made of_ fire _?_ ze almost asked, only barely managing to hold back the thought.

It wasn't long until he mentioned that there were “ _only_ ” black bears around the area – “Just how it is, ever since I've been here,” he explained, glancing at his rifle, “but you still gotta be a little careful.”

Zer reaction evident, he went on with a small smile, “Well, at least it ain't like we gotta worry about 'raptors or nothing.”

“Raptors?” ze asked. Zer one-word replies were bothering zer, but his outlandish statements were playing hell with zer equanimity.

The topic then turned to mass extinction events as he explained about dinosaurs, ammonites, and the great oxygen catastrophe.

This was zer last complete thought, as ze soon found zerself hypnotized by strange glowing lights winking in and out in the darkness; at first only a handful had appeared, and zer mind had wandered lazily over the distinct possibility of deep-atmosphere nocturnal predators luring the unwary into their maws with body parts presented as tempting glowing morsels, but soon had become captivated by their flickerings. Zer fears were assuaged when the Deathworlder had brazenly captured one of the monstrosities and let it crawl along his skin. He laughed good naturedly as he explained to zer that they didn't spit acids or anything – which only set zer on edge again, reminded that this was even a possibility at all, much less a truth in fact of this particular deathworld, something to be blithely mentioned in passing.

Ze was still pondering this as ze noticed absentmindedly that zer Deathworlder had taken out some paper and was rolling it around what appeared to be dry leaves.

He looked over to zer, smiled, and said “It's just some tobacco, nothing else. Well... maybe just a _little_ something else, but only enough for a light buzz,” then winked as he placed the tube into his mouth, lighting the far end of it on fire through the use of a small object that emitted flammable gas – _He keeps that in his pocket?!?_ – and inhaled the sweet-scented smoke.

_Of course. Why not? This is a deathworld, after all._

Billie's head was already spinning before he had taken three further drags, but ze was acclimating to zer Deathworlder's bizarre behavior, zer chemistry adjusting slowly to this torrential assault, and so ze found zerself surrounded by a warm bubble of pleasant feelings as ze simply watched the small plumes escape from his lips. Passing the tube to zer, he rolled a few more, and in short order ze found zerself coughing inexpertly, the thought failing to cross zer mind that this was utterly inexplicable behavior on zer part, even accounting for partaking of local ceremonies. The chemical cocktail set zer nerve clusters and neural net abuzz while simultaneously dulling zer senses and lulling zer reactions.

_And they do this to relax?_

As the evening progressed, he talked away – not monopolizing the conversation, just filling the silence companionably at moments without pressing zer for details of zer own life. He brought out a large pot of “coffee” soon enough, which set zer mind racing even while he passed zer another hand-rolled tube, the smoke continuing to let zer thoughts drift from one fleeting but crystal-sharp observation to the next. Ze noted to zerself, as ze relaxed more and floated calmly in place, that ze'd need a complete assay of their genome and everything that they consumed variously if ze were to even hope for a sub-psychological profile of this insane species.

Avery glanced over, making sure that his guest was alright.

_She seems a bit more settled in now. Amazing what a little food can do for you, sometimes._

_Poor girl was all frazzled before, but she has a nice personality._

_Not bad looking, either._

_Not one bit at all._

The moon now high in the sky – a ridiculously large thing, as improbable as everything else about this planet, fully one quarter the radius of its primary – the Deathworlder decided that it was at last bedtime. He showed zer to his bedroom, pointing out how to operate the lock and saying that ze could sleep there and that he would take the couch for the night.

Before adjourning entirely, he pointed out the en suite. A ceramic chair filled with water, a ceremonial monopodal bowl, and a curtained-off closet that one must step into. That last was clearly for bodily functions – waste elimination – given the privacy of the curtain. The chair might be meant for cleansing hands and face, or awkwardly washing themselves in general. The bowl was a mystery, though its handles indicated some functionality.

Ze nodded to him as he left the room, leaving zer to zer own thoughts as ze nestled into surprisingly comfortable, albeit primitive, bedding. No insects bothered zer, the materials were soft and welcoming... but ze soon found zerself responding to the musks permeating the whole, zer body beginning to respond as if a mating cycle had been agreed upon. Ze fell asleep to strange visions, wondering how these Deathworlders exchanged genetic reference material, and what zer little Deathworlder in particular thought of such things...

**O ~~~ O**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **1** Pre-squark: Most of the physics names and terms in this story can be looked up easily and explained in far better detail than a footnote might hope to do, but this one is my own invention, and so requires some explanation since you won't be able to get it anywhere else.
> 
> TL;DR: picture entangled quantum dot pairs spread out into a diffuse wax-like haze and applied to the flying saucer as a non-gravitational event horizon membrane (cf.: membrane paradigm), and then replace these metaphorical standard dots with a pre-squark QGP (we'll say techniboson-superconducting, just for fun). As for the pre-squarks themselves, therein lies the story: take SuSy Models' squarks and Preon Models' pre-quarks, and connect the dots (only somewhat metaphorically in this case).
> 
> I'm estimating this surface at maybe a mid- to high-Type II tech. It's a pretty specific application, and unlikely to be used outside of recon situations.
> 
> Calling it “invisibility wax” is a nod to a story in Analog (I think, but possibly Omni or Amazing Stories) magazine decades ago (I read it in the '80s, but the issue could well have been from the '40s).
> 
> **2** Thistle: I haven't gone hiking in what feels like forever, but I like food, and I like being ready for emergencies; put these together and you have edible plant identification. For those interested in eating the weeds of your back yard or local park, please peruse my survival playlist (of other people's videos) and food preservation playlist below (with suffix added so that you can import them to your own channel with ease)
> 
> ▐► Survival [https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLzdQ9vN7FdPZjyGGlpnZzCvvsOH0-tlgA&disable_polymer=true](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLzdQ9vN7FdPZjyGGlpnZzCvvsOH0-tlgA&disable_polymer=true)
> 
> ▐► Food preservation [https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLzdQ9vN7FdPYz26kyxUPj67UsJSq-RDwp&disable_polymer=true](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLzdQ9vN7FdPYz26kyxUPj67UsJSq-RDwp&disable_polymer=true)
> 
> **3** Sophonce: Bear in mind that in the Icewall meta-setting, sapient, sentient, and sophont are distinct terms, following much the same path as described at the Orion's Arm website, with a key deviation regarding sophonce.
> 
> Sapient = problem solving, like a calculator or a slime mold.
> 
> Sentient = self-aware, knowing that one exists – that there is an “I” in the mirror, observing one's own thoughts.
> 
> Sophont = other-aware, feeling for others' plights and suffering (empathy in modeling “other”, not empathy of inductive signals).


	2. Turning and returning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Working feverishly at first, Billie hopes to fix zer ship and return home. Avery at last calls for some rest and recreation, and ze learns that some primitive Deathworlder activities can offer pleasant and wholesome distraction, and even be rewarding - but all good things must come to an end, and ze soon finds zerself facing the inevitable crux of taking her leave.

“ 'morning, Billie. Sleep OK?” he asked, “Need a shower? There's no rush just yet. We have all morning 'fore heading back to the pond, and I got nothin' scheduled today.”

Ze considered this, but dismissed it. Ze had no need for more rainfall, nor any idea of why he might think such, but to inquire would likely draw his suspicion down on zer. Unfortunately, this also meant that ze couldn't establish just how they'd managed to control weather to such a degree at their obviously primitive technological level.

Ze shook zer head slowly, hoping not to appear fearful or haughty.

“I got a big ol' pot of grits almost done, but there's plenty of oatmeal with raisins and chopped apples too, since I didn't know what you might like. Brown sugar and cinnamon on the table, next to the salt, pepper, butter, jellies, cream, and cereal. I'll get some bagels and English muffins toasting in a minute, I just haven't gotten the cream cheese out yet.”

Ze nodded noncommittally, hoping that it would be a satisfactory response.

The air was rife with a warm and rich scent, a thick body of yeast.

“Homemade sourdough,” he announced proudly, offering zer a slab of carbohydrate slathered with a greasy yellow substance, “The spores here are perfect for it!”

 _Spores?_ ze wondered, looking around for molds and mushrooms waiting to envelop zer.

The main body of breakfast consisted of platefuls of eggs (ze didn't ask what sort of creature had laid them) and “cheddar and Swiss, and a little feta” (different sorts of polymerized animal fluids, given their textures) with shredded meat and sliced mushrooms, and slices of sweet yet salty meat. This was followed by more and more dishes of so many different foods, and so much of each! If this were indeed representative of their typical meals, then it was little wonder that they moved about so much – they had to do something with all of the extra chemical potential in order to avoid death by sheer intake.

And again zer Deathworlder – _Avery_ , ze corrected zerself primly, _the subject self-identified as Avery, and he's certainly not “_ mine _”_ – Avery served “coffee,” zer body once more juddering from the potent alkaloid contents.

All of this was accompanied by the sweet and acidic juice of an “orange,” and milk from some entirely different species – at least ze assumed so from the mottled beast pictured on the container, though ze didn't rule out that it could more reasonably be some extreme phenotype slave caste of Deathworlder, forced to produce until slaughtered as meat for the good of society.

The salt burned zer receptors, and ze could already feel the osmotic process beginning, but that was presumably why there was also so much to drink at hand.

The fang-beast seemed quiescent, concentrating on some of the food that zer Deathworlder – _Avery!_ – had shared with him from their breakfast.

 _Avery_ appeared not to take notice of zer flustered state, though this did nothing to keep zer thoughts properly impersonal.

Then ze saw the claw-beast, Paws, on the table next to zer. When it had gotten there – _when_ she _got there_ , ze thought – ze had no idea; how _she_ had even done so without zer notice was beyond zer, but there she was. Staring. Waiting. Assessing.

“I think she'd like some attention. And probably some of your food,” Avery laughed.

Ze glanced over at him nervously, then back to the claw-beast.

Moving zer hand slowly, ze brought it to the claw-beast's head in the same manner as ze'd witnessed Avery doing the night before. The claw-beast seemed to accept zer token of obeisance, leaning into the motions and arching its back – _her back_ – to attend her further.

Then she looked at zer plate expectantly.

Ze pushed the plate forward.

She waited, looking up at zer.

Ze reached forward, picking up a piece of the crispy, salty meat – _bacon_ – and offered it to her in trepidation.

She nibbled it carefully, her sensory whiskers reaching forward, her lips peeled back in clear threat not to remove her food. The bacon disappeared in short order, and she waited there patiently.

Ze tried again, less fearful now, offering up a handful of egg-and-cheese. This also met with her approval.

Ze was relieved when she walked away, apparently having satisfied herself of Billie's lesser status.

With breakfast finished, Avery went to “see what's on TV.”

More food was produced to snack on, and Billie found zerself engrossed in the travesties that passed for entertainment, the products openly sold to all ages, blurbs of news from around the world. Zer system was on the verge of mental collapse as ze fought to absorb it all.

The “garlic bread” shocked zer back to the present, only to find Paws in zer lap once more, growling loudly.

 _How long has she been there? And how does she keep_ doing _that?_ Ze began to consider active camouflaging techniques built into her fur, sense-warping chemical emissions, telepathic mind tricks, nano-organic swarms, advanced cybernetic access to quantum functions...

“She's really taken a shine to you,” Avery remarked.

Indeed, ze had to admit that the entire dynamic between him and the deathbeasts certainly had a more familial ring to it than one of mere command and control, or even than of close friendship.

=====

True to his word, Avery managed to get zer ship out of the pond that morning, strapping it down to a trailer. The ride back to his place was much pleasanter than the walk had been the day before, and ze had a chance to appreciate the view from behind the safety of his vehicle's primitive armor plating.

The air was full of birds and birdsong, insects buzzing around wherever ze looked, the sky a deep blue, the air fresh with a clean dampness wafting out of the woods to the southwest. Ze could almost see why zer Deathworlder might like it here.

Hosing zer ship clean took him only a few minutes. It was a simple sandwich shape, like two saucers placed lip-to-lip, with a slight bulge in the middle of the upper half, the whole thing currently displaying a mix of foliage and water and cloudy sky; it even looked as if it had deep-tread tires, just like Avery's truck.

 _Not the most convincing camouflage at the moment_ , ze admitted, _but still a reasonable cross-section of the local area, with some chance of fooling the inattentive eye._

Fixing zer drive, on the other hand, presented its own challenges.

Ze could perform the maintenance insofar as any guidance was needed for the system's nanos, and the ship could produce parts as needed, but explaining it all to Avery, and doing so without hurting his feelings, or raising his curiosity, or risking his avarice, or perhaps incurring his wrath for breaking some primitive superstition... that was an issue.

This was made all the worse by his standing there with sandwiches and “lemonade.”

“Roast beef here on this side, and the other pile is Buffalo chicken breast and mayo. Got some chips an' pickles, too, along with bleu cheese an' ranch.”

Ze took a cautious bite of zer sandwich, sniffing it first, relieved to find that it held only slices of a dark meat, some salty-savory sauce, a thin layer of grease – _butter_ , ze recalled – some crisp green leaves, slabs of a red and juicy vegetable, and small, round slices of a cool, wet, pale greenish-white vegetable. Ze couldn't remember all of the foods' names from last night, but some of them were present again in this snack plate as he patiently named them all for zer once more.

Ze was considering zer options as ze took a sip of zer “lemonade,” only to find zerself spluttering and coughing at it. While sweet on the surface, it immediately presented a harsh dichotomy of acidic tartness and hints of saltiness, brazenly contradicting the otherwise tempting yellow-flavor. Upon noticing that ze could _taste_ its _color_ , ze realized that zer biochemistry was beginning to adjust to match his, even while still trying to regain zer breath from zer glass of acid.

 _Deathworlders!_ ze thought, glowering at him.

The breeze shifted then, bringing his scent to zer.

Ze could smell that he hadn't meant any harm with it.

Far, far worse in fact **:** his scent bore only concern and care. And something else.

_Closeness? Interest?_

Now what was ze supposed to do?

In the end, the repairs took longer than ze'd expected, since the repair systems were in need of some repair themselves.

And there were other systems that needed attention, and everything needed op-checks.

The next few days were busy, in fact, and Avery maintained a supportive role while yet keeping out of zer way.

This didn't help at all.

He was understanding.

He gave whatever ze needed without asking for anything in return.

As the days passed, zer body began to mimic the Deathworlder's hormones, emitting its own designer pheromones and adjusting to his reactions.

In short, ze was horny as hell, finding zerself losing focus on the ship as zer mind pictured one mating exchange configuration after another. Ze had no real idea of how these Deathworlders mated, but clearly zer body wasn't terribly concerned over the details as it worked its way through those of any number of species.

Ze was also becoming far more aggressive, even to the point of stepping out onto the bedroom porch all by zerself, before Avery was even awake.

On the third day of repairs, ze found zerself looking forward to his coffee as ze enjoyed a cup of “tea.”

He'd brewed it in the hope that it might not have quite so strong an effect on zer.

On the fourth day, he decided that ze needed some time off. After lunch – chicken boiled in clarified butter, then broiled in a pork belly wrap, and served with a Mediterranean shrimp salad, with a few slices of mohanthal for dessert – he practically dragged zer away in his truck as soon as they'd finished.

Ze found zerself at the pond again, at a spot where it opened onto a stream.

There was a nice little shady hillock that ze sat on as he unloaded sticks and storage cases.

The storage cases turned out to contain “beer,” food, strange little bits of metal and plastic and colorful hooked objects, and... nothing. The empty ones were for fish, he said.

Ze glanced around, wondering what the fish might want with these.

That's when he began putting the sticks together to form larger ones, connecting polymer strings to them, and all manner of bits to the ends of the strings.

The Deathworlder then showed zer how to set bait and cast the line out into the water, where to aim for and why, sometimes leaving them there and other times giving them a gentle tug now and again.

Ze found this practice inexplicably peaceful, and zer first catch inordinately exciting.

That night, after a feast of fish and eels, which Avery said were actually also fish, and shellfish that ze'd thought were just stones – roasted, broiled, baked, boiled, grilled, and fried in different ways, plain, salty, savory, herbal, creamy, battered, breaded, and some even including the “hot sauce” that ze'd begun to find somewhat appealing – linguine with oil and herbs and a very light crumble of bleu cheese, and some of the “cold-and-colder green milk” ( _mint ice cream_ , he'd said, once ze'd described it further) that ze managed to talk him into, and the usual evening coffee and “recreational cigarettes,” ze spent some time uncertain of how to proceed with a thought that ze'd come to realize had been bothering zer.

“Your sleeping pallet is surely designed for your best comfort and recovery from the day's stresses, and that couch can't possibly be a suitable substitute,” ze began, feeling zer way along blindly.

He looked away quickly, as if searching for something that he'd dropped.

Ze wasn't certain that zer body's anatomy had yet completed shifting itself, nor even that it had done so properly in accordance with his species, but his reaction seemed to make moot zer concern.

“I understand,” ze said quietly.

“It's not that I don't like you Billie,” he replied, “it's just that I don't want to take advantage of you. You need help and a place to stay 'til your... _drone_ is fixed, and right this second you've knocked back more than a few beers and smokes.”

“So...”

“So I can't sleep with you. Not like that, I mean.”

“Like what, then? If we were to only sleep and nothing more, would you be more comfortable?”

He paused, trying to parse this.

Aside from the multiple layers of content, the context itself bore overtones and implications, and some possibilities that he could only guess at.

“It's settled then,” ze continued, “Now hand me another of those beers, please, and no more fussing.”

In a way, ze was indeed relieved. Zer body had developed some unusual interfaces between zer legs, one a damp pit somewhat like the one to the rear, another a small hose that grew large and became rigid (and insistently distracting); they seemed to form a matching set, and an almost-recognizably-modified phenotypal expression of zer own Genomorph parts. No tendrils or frilled bits, no bowls, nor flowers, nor locking mechanisms, and only limited internal movement, manipulation, pressure, and suction, from what ze could tell. Ze was nervous over how they might work, and what he would think of their aesthetic, and just precisely how their parts were supposed to fit together.

On the other hand, knowing that he would soon lie next to zer, his same parts so very near zers...

Ze wondered what he would look like with his garments shed, then wondered if ze'd find out even now, since he'd remained clothed every night so far while on the couch. Ze remembered zer parent-bud body's xenoethnological investigations' several cultural-sexual experiments perfectly well and with more than a little pleasure, each species with tingly bits and sensory stimuli vastly different from the last, but each quite stimulating in its respective manner – but what Avery might think of things was another matter.

Avery, for his part, found zer musk distracting, intoxicating at moments, going right to the back of his skull in point of fact. He made this quite clear to zer by burying his face in zer armpit that very night.

 _Unbelievable_ , ze thought, watching his rapt and sleeping visage nuzzle deeper, _he even finds joy and comfort in breathing waste evaporations._

Shaking zer head with a smile, ze drew closer to him in order to better enable his bizarre Deathworlder interests.

It was two nights later that ze at last discovered the full form that he kept hidden beneath his clothing, surprisingly having only the rear opening and one of zer frontal parts – the dangling bit, no damp area (having instead a strange bag in its place) nor mammary regions, or rather **:** his mammary regions showed significant differences, enough that ze surmised that they must serve some different function in his reproductive role. There were some awkward moments and adjustments, particularly when at one point he paused and made cautious note of soft manipulative appendages in zer rear. Worried by this at first, not having known that this wasn't a Deathworlder trait, but inferring from his tone that he seemed pleased or at least not about to turn zer away, ze mentioned licentiously that ze could call up other forms and functions from zer body's library.

“Just you wait 'til you see what I can do with a direct-neural-interface tail!” ze purred.

=====

It took ten days to complete zer ship's repairs, and that was after ze'd slowed the schedule to a crawl.

The final touch had been the phased array of fern-frond-like nested sets of outward-reaching chevron antennae **1** that caused spacetime to resonate first as discrete Planck volumes, then to heterodyne, and finally coalescing into something like a prolate Bose-Einstein condensate (there were even long established trans- and inter-galactic Alfvén routes dedicated to this), with the upshot that the two ends (and all points between) become effectively one spot with no interaction with outside forces or bodies, though for only a Planck unit of time.

Ze couldn't rationally delay any further. The past four nights had been wonderful – mornings, too, come to think of it, and amazingly other points throughout each day. Deathworlders were rather more energetic than ze'd already gathered. As wonderful as zer time here had been though, ze had to leave now.

Zer mission had never been to interact, only to observe.

That had failed spectacularly, compromising any data that ze'd collected. The results were fascinating, true, but not gathered from their natural state.

Ze'd considered asking him to come with zer, then discarded it as a thoroughly ridiculous and self-centered idea. It would be insanely dangerous to expose him to civilization – and how could he possibly cope out there, anyway? Ze'd essentially be kidnapping him without his full understanding of what he'd face. Ze couldn't ask such a thing of him. Naturally, that didn't stop zer coming back to the thought again and again.

Last night... It had been as if he'd known. Spinach-ricotta soufflé with mushroom risotto, lamb tajine with almonds and apricot, and berries with cream. Simple, delicious, no overwhelming Deathworlder craziness.

Resigned to fate, ze turned at last to face him, his extended pack-bonded “pets” sitting beside him.

“We about ready to go, then?” he asked.

To say that ze was startled would be a gross understatement.

“How did you... wait, ' _we_ '?”

“C'mon, y'all didn't think you'd get rid of me that easy, did ya?”

“I... you don't – it's just that...”

“Yer saying you don't want company, out there in the stars?”

“You... _know_?”

He smiled then, watching zer skin flush with that same old beautiful hint of green.

“I kinda took a bit of a guess there, yeah,” he replied, waiting a moment to gauge zer response before picking up his bag, Paws leaping onto his shoulder, Yeller following along happily, tongue lolling.

Looking around the yard one last time, he shook his head in his usual marvel as he watched zer ass disappear through what appeared to be a solid wall of metallic air, sealing behind zer as smoothly as an unblemished glass surface.

Walking Avery through the ship took a _lot_ longer than either had anticipated. Ze was aware that it was greatly different from his homeworld's technology, and so would certainly require some explanation and no doubt quite a bit of discussion, but that hadn't prepared zer for just how much this would amount to. For his part, it was a fascinating experience to learn that the ship's hull worked on the same principle as its propulsion, keeping out whatever didn't belong inside, while permitting free passage to those who were permitted such access, but the true marvel was that a similar hyperbolic quantized spatial effect governed interior space throughout ship (it turned out that this was how so much fit into so little **:** it wasn't that there was “more” room within than without, only that there was always caused to be “just enough” room wherever anything happened to be).

He soon wanted to tinker with it **:** add a few antennae to the comms to see if they could shoot destabilizing solitons and even time-decay packets, toss the same onto a flight chair (which Billie had tried explaining, but all that he really got out of it was something about configurable static fields of rigidified inflaton) and go nebula-mudding through the Rydberg polaron slurry, or water-ski along in the wakefield (he did eventually talk zer into at least causing a standing field in such a way that the ship's vector could be caused to become a scalar, allowing them to be nowhere at all while occupying the entire flight path at once for an arbitrarily extended period of ship-time).

The first thing that he did, once he talked zer into it, was to install a beer-cup holder in the flight deck, plus a dispenser (Billie later had to hack through multiple safety and health protocols [some industrial lab and manufacturing regulations being gotten around by the “alien needs” clause] to force the system to accept Deathworlder cuisine). His insane enthusiasm was contagious, as was his zestful disregard for common sense and the thrill that he got from seeing just how much he could live through, but these served only to fan matters, and so would have to wait.

As the tour drew to a close, they adjourned to zer cabin for item two of the day's impromptu agenda **:** fucking their brains out every which way and then going on to de-virginating every room of the ship, to include the one that Billie had a wall create “within” its surface as a demonstration model. Ze wondered idly how his body would react once zers had eventually fully adapted to his neurochemistry and then began signaling his mating and pleasure receptors exponentially more potently than with mere molecular exchange.

After a few days for zer to make the necessary adjustments, he did indeed find out what just ze could do with a tail.

_ **Deathworlder** _

They stood looking out into some hellworld, just the latest one in a long series – this one lit by volcanic flares that managed low orbit regularly, typically crashing into toxic and corrosive iceteroids in the annuli and releasing a multitude of ancient alien microbes of untold horror, while the local wildlife fought everything in sight and mutated constantly under the cosmic sleet from the active black hole in the sky. Avery called such hellworlds “fun” and “stimulating.” The merc crew was so fucked that they'd sent an all-band unsecured distress call, even promising bonded payment.

Billie and Avery discussed the sitrep calmly, and then waded into the shit. Ze was proud of zer Deathworlder, and of having grown to become a naturalized Deathworlder zerself. As a mission-tailored demo model, budded from zer parent-self, this xenoethnologist planned to be around for a long, long time.

Ze was looking forward to a nice long, hot soak together in the “tub” that Avery had eventually convinced zer to try – it was amazing what a few lipids and a few glasses of sweet, fizzing ethyl mixture could do for one's spirits. Ze just hoped that he didn't go and add yet another hellbeast-pet to the growing menagerie within the ship.

 _Honestly, what_ is _he ever thinking? You just can't leave him alone for even a single second!_

On their way out, they decided to head home for a nice, relaxing vacation after this; maybe finally take that Australian tour that they sometimes kicked around.

**O ~~~ O**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **1** Ship: The BEC-space effect might be accessible at low- to mid-Type I tech, though the trans-galactic Alfvén routes would indicate high-Type II civilization at the least; the same being said of intergalactic indicates something above Type III (say, III.2 or more, presumably). The interior space being caused to become hyperbolic is probably in reasonably widespread use, and so not peculiar to this class of ship or mission, but its presence (and probable causal usage) implies high-Type II to low-Type III tech being generally available. The chairs' design, much less presence, nudges that up a couple of points.
> 
> As with the preceding chapter, most of the terms used are very real things in physics - some observed (e.g.: BEC), some purely hypothetical (e.g.: inflaton field), and some played a little loose herein (e.g.: Rydberg polarons as a **_slurry_** ). I'd detail them here, but your best bet, as with anything, is to hit your favorite physics site, encyclopedia, and/or search engine.

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to explore Billie's universe more, though I never know where my muse will take me. I ended up writing another story, “[Heart of the GNACHO](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27103411)”, rather than as a specific chapter appended to this short story. It's a series, and there's a third story (“[When in Rome](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27193691/chapters/66422087)”) in the series now written and uploaded to AO3 (the third one is surprisingly popular). If you wish to subscribe, then you should click the **_series_** “[Tell me more about this Earth-thing](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1975186)” (top of page) and subscribe _there_ to the series altogether, rather than this story in particular.
> 
> = = = = =
> 
> On a broadly modified Kardashёv scale, the technology at zer disposal seems to me to be about Type II, maybe a point or two higher or lower. That's intentional.
> 
> The information, tools, material resources, power, etc. at our individual disposal in the real world aren't quite at the same level as those of a given nation or the world as a whole (though generally not more than perhaps a magnitude of difference, there are some communities whose lives do reflect that great a disparity or more). I'd argue that the same applies to individuals within large scale civilizations in most sci-fi, and often fantasy. Here, Billie's civilization is perhaps Type III.2, but zer individual research/consumer level of technology (etc.) is not what I'd expect of that level. Ze can get to another galaxy, maybe easily under zer own power, and maybe only by booking passage on a cruise or something, but we get only intimations of this from zer ship's tech level, and that tech doesn't strike me as intergalactic in scope – maybe somewhere between Type I.5 (Star Trek-ish) or so and Type II.5 (Warhammer 40K-ish) or so. My point there is that a civilization's total Kardashёv level doesn't necessarily reflect every citizen's access.
> 
> Cf.: “[EVA](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24363373)”, “[Megamechs 101](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24385531)”, and “[Meat Pies](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24362857/chapters/58754404)” (NB: [ch. 3, note 3 re. Cor](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24362857/chapters/60135520#3), w.r.t. the overall story's setting) re. Kardashёv tech and post-level civilizations (esp. in light of the anime “Fairy Tail” and “One Piece”, or Gregory Benford's “Galactic Center” novel series), following the events of “[Nothing's gonna change my world](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24380977)”.


End file.
